Club Vampiro
by Heart of a Music Box
Summary: For some unfathomable reason, Matt has dragged Mello to a club and promptly gotten seperated from him. Now that the strippers are seizing him up, what will Mello do to protect his property?


Mello tapped his foot on the ground impatiently. He hated clubs. He hated partying. He hated crowds. And at the moment, he hated Matt for dragging him down to Club Vampiro in the first place.

Said techie had disappeared into the pulsating mass of humans, either dancing the night away or drinking himself into a stupor. Either way, he'd be too exhausted to move tomarrow morning.

"Little redhead bastard..."

His own words were muted. Club Vampiro was crowded. People shaking their asses on the dance floor, drug dealers and addicts in the corners, and drunkards and prostitutes hanging around by the bar. One of said slutty women winked at him, jiggling her boobs for emphasis. Mello scowled at her. He could see in her head, and he saw her picturing herself taking her clothes off, and somehow raking in hig bucks from himself. He didn't even have any cash on him.

"If I catch even ONE of her friends within a foot of Matty..."

His heart stopped. Thinking about Matt and strippers at the same time equaled panic. Matt was cute, no, he was drop-dead-fucking-sexy, and would no doubt attract some idiot woman looking for a good fuck and a good pay.

This in mind, he set off to find his boyfriend and drag him home.

Soon he spotted a mop of scarlet hair, alone at the end of the bar. He downed what looked to be his sixth glass of whatever he was drinking, and yelled slurringly for more. Mello started toward him, and stopped short.

Also coming toward Matt was a woman. She wore a neon purple leather corset, black denim shorts and showed off at least half of her ass, and thigh-length purple leather boots with buckles all over them. She was undoing some of the laces on her corset while running her tounge over her overly-made-up lips. She had set her eyes on the rich-looking, sexy boy at the end of the counter.

If looks could kill, that hoe would be laying dead on the spot. She hadn't seen Mello, but she would in a moment. And she'd lose any chance she thought she had with HIS Matty.

Mello reached Matt's stool, and climbed onto him. He placed his boots on either side of Matt's waist, his knees almost shoved into his armpits. He plopped his ass down right into his boyfriend's groin, smirking lustily. He moved one hand, in a sensually slow manner, to grip gently the back of Matt's neck. The other hand picked the cherry out of Matt's drink and fingered it, lustful thoughts overwhelming his mind.

Matt, as opposed to what others might say, actually had a high tolerance for alcohol, and knew exactly who was trying to turn him on. He also knew that his blonde lover was succeeding with flying colors.

Matt sighed when he felt Mello's soft lips find his throat. He tilted his head to the left, exposing more of his skin. Mello took the bait nicely, and Matt let out a quiet moan, which was almost inaudiable with the pounding techno.

"What brought this on, Mello?" He inquired into the blonde's ear; Mello was biting his earlobe on the opposite side, "You were never one for PDA."

"Just letting all these whores know my territory."

"Haha, jealous much? Honestly, Me-"

Mello interuppted his boyfriend by shoving his tounge to the back of his mouth. Matt kissed back enthusiastically. By now, the prostitute whose eyes had been on Matt had long since vanished. Not that Mello cared. He was enjoying himself now. He ground his hips forward, gripping Matt by the front of his shirt. Matt held him in place by the hips.

Breaking the kiss, Mello lifted Matt's shirt to the base of his neck, and latched his mouth to one of his visibly-erect nipples. He twirled his tounge around the little nub, and closed his lips around it, sucking as hard as his throat could manage. He let one of his pale hands slid down to squeeze the erection growing at the front of his lover's pants.

Matt, in the meantime, decided he better pay for his eight-some drinks, before he lost himself completely. He slid the money over to the bartender, who took one look at the blonde sucking on his chest, and decided she didn't want to know.

Mello felt Matt prepare to stand, and detached his mouth. He wrapped his arms around Matt's torso, and his legs around his waist. Matt sighed, Mello wasn't getting off. He stood, keeping one arm locked around the blonde's skinny waist, in fear of dropping him, and made his way to the door.

On the way out, Mello, who's chin rested over Matt's shoulder, caught sight of the purple-leather-clad prostitute from before. She was glaring murderously at him. Smirking, Mello stuck his tounge out, flipped her off, and tightened his hold on Matt.

'He's mine, bitch, back off.'

~ * ~

Matt seated Mello in the front passenger seat of his car, and walked around to get into the drivers. He backed out of the Club Vampiro parking lot and began the twenty-minute drive back to their apartment. He drove calmly for about five minutes.

Mello then reached over and unzipped his jeans.

The growing erection he'd been trying to ignore popped out enthusiastically, looking ready and willing. Even though Mello's face was bent over, Matt could picture his snooty smile.

He moaned, and almost drove into a ditch, when he felt the blonde's hot mouth envelope it.

"M-Mello, y-you cannot give me a-ah! b-blowjob while I'm dri-ah!-ving!"

Mello hummed a sing-song tune in response, and almost gave Matt a release from the vibrations. Unconciously thrusting upward, he nearly gagged the leather-clad mafia boss. He was going to crash, he just knew it.

Finally, with a scream, he came, and Mello swallowed. Matt sighed, thinking it was over.

Oooh, how wrong he was.

Mello gripped his limp cock, and started fisting it up and down. The hardness returned. Mello started panting hotly into the gamer's ear.

"Just wait until we get back, Matty. I'll show you who's the better fuck..."

~ * ~

Matt barely had time to carrying Mello into the bedroom before he was tugged in an uncoordinated manner to the bed.

Their 'bed' was actually a box spring with a mattress on top*. They had two pillows and a quilt. Technically, it was only supposed to sleep one. However, between Mello's size and clingy sleep-nature, there was more than enough room.

Mello tore Matt's shirt off and threw it to the floor. He straddled Matt's waist with his legs and shoved his groin against Matt's. Both boys moaned at the delicious friction. Mello was unstoppable tonight. He would show Matt just who he belonged with, and mark his property once again.

Even if that meant doing it from the bottom.

Mello yanked Matt's jeans down, as well as his own leather pants. Their now-naked cocks rubbed, and they moaned again. Their skin could taste, and it was met with a delicious, sensual flavor. The blonde knew he couldn't hold out much longer. He had to make Matt fuck him, and fast. He caught sight of Matt trying to reach over the mattress for the lube. He shook his head vigorously and shoved their lips together again.

"No preperation...please, do it, Matty..."

Matt didn't want to hurt his lover, and that tended to happen whenever they went without lubricant, but hearing Mello beg pushed him over the edge.

Ever so slowly, he eased himself inside. In his quest not to harm the blonde, he was denying himself the sheer pleasure of thrusting in and out a speed seen only in cartoons.

Fortunatly, Mello was impatient.

He slammed his body downward, meeting a slow thrust from the gamer head on. His neck almost cracked as he flung his head back, moaning gibberish. Matt picked up his pace, thrusting faster and faster. The motivation? The faster he went, the louder Mello got.

Enough said.

"Ooh..OH! God! Matty! Harder, baby, please! Harder! Deeper!! Aaah, that's it!"

Typical screams of the one normally on the bottom. Mello's fingernails had torn Matt's skin, and his scarlet blood was dripping down onto the bed and onto Mello's pale skin. Mello breathed heavily in the redhead's ear, arousing him even more.

Now, these two always debate on who's weaker when it comes to seduction. The argument always comes down to one thing. Who cums first. There's irony to that theory; whenever Matt's on the bottom, Matt cums first, but when Mello's on the bottom, he's the one.

They figured being fucked was better than being the fucker.

So it suprised them when they came in unison, at the exact same time. White jell-like liquid spattered all over Matt's chest, and some landed on his face. Mello felt that same brand of substance fill him inside, and some dripped out. More came out when Matt pulled out.

Mello's adrenaline was fading, as was his partner's. He cuddled tightly into Matt's chest, and whispered his last words for the night.

"Now isn't it obvious who's better at this?"

Matt chuckled as Mello dozed off. He too felt sleep overcoming him, and he whispered his own few words before departing into lalaland.

"I'd never touch a woman anyway."


End file.
